


I saw Daddy kissing Santa Claus

by merle_p



Series: Holiday verse [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Holiday, Kid Fic, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-07
Updated: 2009-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-06 23:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merle_p/pseuds/merle_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas morning, and the doorbell is ringing, and the house is a mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I saw Daddy kissing Santa Claus

**Author's Note:**

> Written January 2009.   
> Jared and Jensen only belong to themselves, the same goes for any other real person mentioned in this fic. Kim and Carla are mine, though. The title almost-quotes the song _I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus_ by Tommie Connor.  
> This story was written for the [](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_j2_xmas/profile)[**spn_j2_xmas**](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_j2_xmas/) exchange. It's for [](http://pyroblaze18.livejournal.com/profile)[**pyroblaze18**](http://pyroblaze18.livejournal.com/), who asked (among a few other things) for: _Schmoop, domestic!fics, family!fic, light angst that still has a happy ending, first-time, humor, AU, kid!fic_ and gave me the more explicit prompts _kid!fic of any sorts_ and _AU_.

It's Christmas morning, and the doorbell is ringing, and the house is a mess.

_Jensen_ is a mess. He had to work the day before, because of course people always have to wait until the fucking 24th to buy their presents and Eric needed every man he could get at the store. When Jensen picked up the kids at the day mother's, Carla was already cranky and tired, and, not two hours later, both kids were coughing and burning up. Their pediatrician is spending the holidays with his wife in Whistler skiing like every year, which is probably just as well, because Jensen couldn't pay him anyway.

So this year, Jensen got for Christmas: Two kids who are sick with the flu, a house that needs a thorough cleaning and a totally empty bank account. Merry fucking Christmas.

And the door bell is still ringing.

Jensen really, _really_ hopes it's just Chris and Steve dropping by unanounced, and not his mother, who decided to fly up even if Jensen told her about a thousand times that they would be fine, because he really doesn't need to hear her _I told you so_ right now. And he definitely hopes it's not someone who wants money, because he would just have to send them away empty-handed.

The kids are still upstairs in bed, but he's going to relocate them to the couch in the living room later: That way, they can at least see the Christmas tree and open their presents, and, more importantly, he doesn't have to take the stairs every time they need anything – which will be, from his experience, every five minutes at least.

And the door bell keeps ringing.

He sighs, puts down what must be the seventh pot of peppermint tea he's made this morning and wipes his hands on his sweat pants before he opens the door and comes face to face with – Santa Claus.

Well, not exactly face to face, because Santa, Jensen notices despite his surprise, is taller than he expected, and obviously working out a lot, if the wide chest and broad shoulders are any indication. He's wearing a red hooded coat and a long white beard, a huge, heavy looking bag over his left shoulder, and on his feet a pair of green .... Chucks.

Jensen blinks. So either, Santa Claus is trying very hard to stay in touch with the youth, or maybe it's not really Santa. Which would be a great relief, because somehow Jensen thinks that he really doesn't want Santa to see him in stained sweats and a worn out wife beater on Christmas Day.

"Uhm – hi?" Santa says, and Jensen realizes that he has been staring. Santa's voice is not deep and booming, like Jensen thought it would be. Instead, he sounds really young and a bit uncertain and he's got a slight southern drawl that makes Jensen feel weak with homesickness. When Jensen doesn't say anything, he continues: "Your Rent-A-Santa?"

So not really Santa Claus. Of course not. Jensen takes a deep breath and runs a hand over his unwashed face. "Sorry, you got the wrong address."

Santa raises a brow - or at least Jensen _thinks_ that he does, it's kind of hard to tell with the beard and the hood - and pulls a crumbled piece of paper out of one of his many, many pockets.

"1701 Charles Street?" He reads, sounding confused. Jensen groans. Of course it wouldn't be that simple.

"Yeah, that's me", he admits grudgingly, "but I didn't -"

"I've got a signature right here", Santa says, "Jeffrey Dean Morgan? Is that you?"

"Fuck", Jensen swears before he can stop himself, and he hopes that the person in the costume is just a student who needs the money and not some religious freak who's going to curse him for the use of inappropriate language. "Look", he says, "that's – that's my ex-husband, okay? He probably forgot to cancel this thing before he – he left. I didn't even know – what's the date on the order form?"

If Santa is caught by surprise by the husband thing, he doesn't show it. "Uhm", he says, taking a closer look at the sheet. "July 15th."

"Great", Jensen nods, and he can't keep the bitterness out of his voice. "That's just fucking great. He makes an appointment with freaking Santa Claus in _summer_, when no sane person would even _think_ about Christmas, and then he packs his things and just disappears from our life."

"Uhm", Santa says, and suddenly he doesn't look so tall anymore. His shoulders are slumped, and he moves his feet nervously. Jensen feels kind of bad for making this guy's job so much more difficult. "I'm really sorry about your husband – um, ex-husband. But I'm here now, so. Why don't you just let me in? I'm sure the kids ....."

"Look", Jensen hisses, and he takes a step closer without really meaning to. "I know it's not your fault or something, but I can't _afford_ this. Okay? I can't even afford the rent for this month, much less the presents I bought for my children. I can't -"

"Daddy?" a tiny voice interrupts his ranting, and two little red noses peek out from behind the door. "Daddy?" Carla asks curiously. "Is that – is that really Santa Claus?"

Jensen closes his eyes. Too late. Now he has to explain to his sick children that Santa Claus is a capitalist who only comes to those who have the money to pay him and that their father definitely isn't one of them.

"Hey kids", Santa says, and when Jensen opens his eyes, Santa has gone down to his knees on their door step. His voice is warm and confident, all traces of uncertainty gone. "That's right, I'm Santa Claus. And who are you guys?"

"I'm Carla", Jensen's daughter says, smiling a wide gap-toothed smile. "I'm five, and I'm adopted." She turns halfway and points at her little brother who's hiding behind her, chubby little fingers gripping her red Pirate pajamas tightly. "And this is Kim", she says. "He's three. And he's adopted, too."

Jensen wonders what the guy must think of her proud proclamation. Carla has never been embarrassed about being an adopted child – not that they could possibly hide it, what with Carla's dark skin and black curls, and Kim's almond shaped eyes. But people's reactions are sometimes unpredictable, and not everyone likes patchwork families with single gay parents.

Jensen shouldn't have worried. Of course, Santa doesn't care about irrelevant details like that. "It's nice to meet you, Carla and Kim", he says seriously, shaking Carla's hand carefully. Her tiny fingers almost disappear in his huge paw.

"Did you bring us presents?" Carla asks excitedly. Behind her, Kim sneezes and wipes his nose on his sleeve.

Santa laughs. His laughter is loud and bright and happy. It's been a while since someone laughed like that in this house. "Actually, yes", he says. "Maybe we can go inside? This bag is kind of heavy."

The children take his hands and start to pull him inside, and Santa lets them drag him off.

"Don't worry about the money", he whispers when he passes Jensen. "It's Christmas, remember?"

Jensen nods dumbly and follows his children and Santa Claus inside.

***

They sit down in the kitchen, and Carla offers peppermint tea and store-bought chocolate cookies with the air of – well, rather a nervous jerboa than a good little housewife, but Santa accepts the offerings gracefully enough. He sits down in one of the kitchen chairs that is totally normal-sized but looks like it belongs to one of the seven dwarfs under Santa's huge frame, and takes the battered Starbucks mug with a polite thank you. The kids are bouncing up and down with excitement, Carla chattering nonstop, Kim still shy but curious enough to edge closer and look up at Santa with huge dark eyes.

Jensen leans against the door frame for support, staring at the surreal scene before him with confusion. Despite what Santa said, he still worries about the payment, and he feels kind of embarrassed about the dishes in the sink, the bread crumbs on the table and the dust bunnies in the corners. But – his kids are clearly still sick, with running noses, crusty eyes and fever-reddened cheeks, but they are so obviously happy, that looking at them makes his chest ache. They've been so downcast since Jeff left, since his husband decided that he wasn't ready after all to spend the rest of his life with a house, a turtle and two adopted kids, no matter that he's ten years older than Jensen, which makes him, in Jensen's opinion, definitely old enough to settle down for good.

The problem is that Jeff was the main earner in their relationship, and working part-time at the GLBT bookstore on Davie Street was absolutely fine back then, but definitely isn't enough anymore now that Jeff has left with all the money in their joint account. And Jensen is doing his best, but even with all the overtime he's been doing and the checks his brother has sent, they hardly get by. So who is he to say no when some crazy guy who apparently thinks he is Father Christmas wants to drink tea in their messy kitchen?

Santa, in the meanwhile, has devoured what must have been five or six cookies and has put down his empty mug. Jensen didn't know it was even possible to swallow hot tea that quickly. Now, he's bending over, rummaging through his bag, and Jensen gets a glimpse of a very nicely shaped behind when the red coat shifts with his movements. Jensen shakes his head. Maybe he should follow Chris' advice after all and start dating again if he's desperate enough to perv on Santa Claus.

"Ah, here we go!" Santa exclaims happily, reappearing from the bag with what looks like four large gift-wrapped packages, and tilts his head to check the name tags on the first two. "Carla, these are for you." The girl squeals and takes the presents, then stops to frown.

"Shouldn't you ask if we have been nice first?" she asks skeptically. "Maybe we have been really bad children this year."

Santa lets out a noise that sounds like something between a snort and a squeak, but he quickly covers it up with a cough.

"Uhm", he says, shooting a short glance at Jensen, "you know, someone told me that you have been really good, so I think you deserve to get presents. Also", he adds, like an afterthought, "you are sick on Christmas, and that's just not fair."

Carla nods seriously, obviously deciding that his arguments are convincing, and lets Santa offer the remaining two presents to her brother. The little boy snags the packages out of his hands and presses them against his chest possessively as if he's worried Santa might take them back.

"Kids, manners", Jensen remembers to remind them, and they both hurriedly say their thanks before they settle down on the kitchen floor and start to tear the wrapping paper apart. Jensen has to grin at their enthusiasm.

"It's nothing big", a voice says, very close to his ear, and Jensen realizes that Santa has joined him in the door to watch the children. "Just stuffed animals and coloring books."

He's standing close enough to brush Jensen's bare arm with the soft sleeve of his coat, and Jensen suddenly feels a bit hot. He clears his throat. "How – did Jeff ..."

"We've got a list of things you can choose from", Santa explains cheerfully, apparently not bothered by his stammering. Most likely, he's just memorized the ad, but somehow, he sounds as if there's nothing more interesting than pre-ordered gifts delivered by a rented Santa. "Different packages, different prices. You can also get an elf or an angel with your Santa – of course, that's also more expensive."

"Oh – okay." Jensen nods and wonders what it means that Jeff didn't ask for the elf – was it just his tendency to purism or had he already been thinking about leaving and hadn't wanted to spend too much money on a family that soon wouldn't be his anymore?

Jensen's somber thoughts are interrupted by a gentle nudge to his side. "Here", Santa says quietly, holding out another small package. "This is yours."

Jensen is about to tell the guy that he's not interested in presents his ex-husband chose from a list and that he has to pay for himself anyway when he notices that the package is not wrapped like the others. In fact, it's not gift-wrapped at all – it's still in the Chapters bag it was probably bought in, and Jensen realizes that this is something Santa got for himself – or maybe as a gift for someone else.

He swallows heavily. "Look", he says, looking up into the face that's still half hidden behind the white beard. All he can make out, if he looks really closely, are a pair of hazel eyes and an excitingly curved nose. "That's not ..."

"Hey", the Santa says softly. "It's Christmas, right? You should get something to unwrap, too."

Jensen bites his lip and reluctantly reaches for the bag. He knows it's a book as soon as he closes his hands around it. The receipt flutters to the floor when he pulls out the book, and Santa catches it out of the air and crumbles it quickly before Jensen can take a look at it. He chuckles sheepishly, and Jensen can't help but smile up at him. Then he finally looks at the book in his hands – and holds his breath.

It's _Follow the Smoke: 14,783 Miles of Great Texas Barbecue_, the book that Jensen has ogled longingly more than once at the Chapters store. It's not even that expensive, but at the moment, he just can't afford spending money on things he doesn't really need – so he always just run over the pages and then put it back on the stack with a sigh. And here – here's this guy who doesn't even know him, giving him the book he wanted like it's nothing.

Suddenly, his throat is closing up, his eyes are burning, and Jensen knows he has to leave before he embarrasses himself. Abruptly, he turns away and flees from the kitchen, leaving Santa and his oblivious children behind.

He didn't cry during the big fight, when Jeff accused him of being controlling and clingy and smashed a wine glass on the fridge. He didn't cry when he came home one afternoon a few weeks later and found Jeff's suitcase in the hallway. He didn't cry when his children refused to go to sleep the third night in a row and kept asking for their dad.

And now he's standing in the unheated office in front of a desk that's cluttered with unpaid bills and unanswered letters, clutching a book about _barbecue_ in his arms, and is sobbing like a little child.

He doesn't know how long he's been there when finally the door opens and someone slips in. The footsteps are too heavy for it to be one of the kids, and Jensen is glad that he's got his back to the door.

"Hey", Santa says, and a big warm hand settles on his back carefully. "Are you okay?" He sounds confused and a bit scared, and Jensen can't really blame him. This experience is probably scarring the guy for life.

"The kids?" he asks, trying to get his voice back under control.

"Uhm" Santa says sheepishly. "They are watching _Lilo &amp; Stitch_ in the living room. I hope that's okay? I know Santa probably shouldn't encourage children to watch TV, but I thought Disney wouldn't be too bad and I didn't ..."

He trails off helplessly. His hand is still on Jensen's back, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, and Jensen can hear him take a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry if I did something wrong, okay? I didn't want to offend you or anything, but – I thought you sounded like you're from Texas, too, and I bought the book on a whim just this morning, I don't even really need it, I have too much stuff anyway, and I thought maybe ... God, you're not a vegetarian, are you?"

"No", Jensen chokes out and turns around. He knows he looks worse than his sick children, with red-rimmed eyes and snot on his face. "Thank you. I'm sorry, you probably think I'm a total loser, and crazy, and hey, I guess I _am_ crazy, because I married a guy who can't even take responsibility for his own children and just took off, but ..." A hiccup stops him, and he realizes that the tears are flowing again.

"Hey, hey", Santa says softly, and then Jensen feels two strong arms coming around him, and he's pulled against a broad chest. "It's alright. You have every right to be upset, okay? And believe me, you are far from being the craziest customer I've met on this job."

Jensen chokes out a laughter, swallowing a couple of threads in the process, because the soft fabric of Santa's coat is sticking to his damp face.

"Yeah?" he asks shakily, not daring to raise his head yet. "What could possibly be crazier than this?"

"Well", Santa says slowly, and Jensen can hear the grin in his voice. "There was this couple – they didn't even have children, but, you know, I thought that maybe he wanted to surprise his wife – until they asked me to join them in the bedroom. I barely escaped, man, I think I've never been more scared in my life. And just this morning, a family sent me away because apparently they just converted to Buddhism and don't do Christmas anymore."

Jensen smiles and finally looks up. Santa's beard moves, and Jensen thinks that maybe he's smiling back, and then he realizes that he's still enveloped in Santa's embrace.

He coughs embarrassedly and takes a step back, wiping his eyes. "Don't you, ah, don't you need to be somewhere? I mean, what about your other appointments?"

Santa waves him off with a shrug that's a bit too demonstrative to be casual. "No, you are the last one for today. Don't worry, I'm not – I'm not in a hurry."

Jensen nods, gradually feeling like himself again. "In that case ... can I at least get you a beer? Or is Santa Claus not allowed to drink on duty?"

Santa laughs his bright, joyful laugh. "No beer", he says, "I'm driving ... but another cup of tea would be nice."

They end up on the couch in the living room, the children wedged between them, drinking peppermint tea and cough syrup and watching the big showdown between Stitch and the bad guys who want to take the little blue alien away from its new family. Then Carla insists on introducing Santa to Mr. T, and Jensen watches Santa pick up the turtle and caress its wrinkly head.

"Hello Mr. T", he says earnestly. "I'm afraid I don't have any presents for you. If I'd known you lived here, I would have brought you some yummy turtle-food."

Kim giggles, while Carla shakes his head. "Silly", she says. "He's a turtle. He doesn't do Christmas."

"Are you sure?", Santa asks, tilting his head. "Because my dogs sure do love Christmas."

***

It's already dark outside when Santa's cell phone rings. Jensen suppresses the wave of disappointment he feels when Santa tells them that he has to go, and concentrates on more important matters.

"What about – you know – the money?" he asks reluctantly when he helps Santa pick up his bag and opens the front door for him.

"It's fine", Santa says, "really, don't worry. I'll think of something."

"Thank you" Jensen says. "It was fun – I mean, the children had fun", he adds hastily.

"You're welcome", Santa says, and he sounds like he means it. "I had fun too." He looks like he waits for Jensen to say something else, but when nothing comes, he lifts a hand and waves a little. "Merry Christmas."

And then he turns around and jumps down the stairs. Jensen watches him walk down the garden path, and he realizes that this guy is about to disappear from his life, and that he doesn't even know his name. Suddenly, he can't stand the thought.

"Hey, wait", he yells, running down the stairs, not caring that he's still in his sweats. Santa is already halfway down the street, but when he hears Jensen's voice, he stops and turns around.

"You shouldn't be outside dressed like this", he says when Jensen catches up. "You'll catch a cold."

Jensen shakes his head. "I just wanted ... what's your name?" he asks, still out of breath.

"My name?" the guy asks, sounding surprised. "Oh. Yes. Jared", he says. "I'm Jared."

"Jared", Jensen says. "I'm – I'm Jensen. It's – it was nice to meet you."

Santa – Jared – doesn't answer, just looks at him, and Jensen already feels stupid for running after him like that. After all, it's Jared's job to be nice to him, it's not as if ...

"Look", Jared suddenly says, and he sounds oddly shy, and nervous. "There's – we are having this party on New Year's Eve, just some friends of mine, and – maybe, I thought maybe you might want to come."

"Oh" Jensen makes. He must have been staring again, because Jared quickly adds: "You can bring Carla and Kim, of course – there'll be other people with children, and it's not, it's not going to be _that_ kind of party, just – just dinner and ...."

"Yeah", Jensen smiles. "We'd love to come."

"Really?" Jensen still can't see Jared's face, but he sounds actually happy. "Cool, that's – that's really great. Okay, let me just ...."

He hastily rummages through the pockets of his coat, finally coming up with a pen and a note book. He scribbles down something and rips out the page he's been writing on.

"Here's the address", he says, thrusting the piece of paper at Jensen like he's afraid it's going to bite him. "Just – see you then, okay?"

"Yeah", Jensen nods. "See you."

He smiles for the rest of the day, even when Kim throws up on the carpet and Carla's temperature climbs again. For the first time in months, he actually feels hopeful.

***

On New Year's Eve, Jensen is not so sure anymore. The address Jared gave him is a house in Kitsilano, and Jensen is standing on the curb, one still slightly groggy child on each hand, and looking up to the light in the windows on the first floor.

He probably would have canceled, if not for the fact that Chris and Steve practically threw him out of his own house, and that he doesn't have a phone number he could have called to say that he wouldn't come.

It's not that he doesn't want to see Jared again – because he does – it's just that he realizes that he doesn't know anything about him. And not for lack of trying. He googled the Rent-a-Santa company and came up with Jared's middle and last name, but not much else, and when he called the office, the voice mail told him that Santa and his little helpers are on vacation now that the season is over, and that the Easter packages will be up in a few weeks. He tried to imagine Jared in a Bunny suit, which only reminded him of the fact that he doesn't even know what Jared looks like, except for his impressive height and his strong, big hands. For all he knows, Jared could be really, really ugly, sort of like the Phantom of the Opera, or – even worse – he could turn out to be really, really straight.

"Can we go inside now, Daddy?" Carla asks, tugging at his hand impatiently. "I'm hungry."

Jensen swallows and tightens his grip on his children. "Yeah", he says. "Sure."

_McCoy, Murray, Padalecki, Rosenbaum, Welling_ says the plate next to the door bell, which Jensen presses firmly after a second of hesitation. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

"Hello", someone says, and Jensen's eyes fly open. The small woman who opened the door looks at him curiously.

"Hi." He clears his throat. "I'm – I'm Jensen Ackles. I -"

"Oh", the woman beams up at him, suddenly excited. "You are Jensen! Thank God! Jared has been driving us crazy the whole day because he was afraid you wouldn't come."

Jensen blushes, because – Jared has been talking about him? "He – really?"

The girl laughs like she knows something he doesn't. "It's good to meet you guys. Come on -"

"Who is it, Sandy?" someone asks, and then a guy appears in the door behind the girl. A really tall guy with really shiny shaggy brown hair and a really cute upturned nose.

He stares down at them, and Jensen stares back, and then the guy's face splits into a wide, dimpled smile. "Jensen! Carla, Kim! You came!"

"Jared?" Jensen asks hesitantly, because this? Is definitely not the Phantom of the Opera. It's a totally gorgeous guy, and probably far too young for Jensen, but at least he looks old enough to be legal.

"Hey", Jared says smiling, and suddenly Jensen is pulled into a one-armed hug. "It's good to see you."

"You too", Jensen stammers, while Jared crouches down and shakes hands with his children.

"Santa?" Carla asks, sounding slightly confused, and Jared throws his head back and laughs.

"Yeah, that's me", he says. "But I'm off duty now." He suddenly scoops up both children and gets up like they weigh nothing, grinning when they squeal and clutch his shirt. "Come on", he says. "I want you to meet my dogs. You too, Jensen", he smiles.

Jensen swallows thickly. "Okay", he says and starts to follow Jared inside but is stopped by a small, but strong hand on his chest.

"Wait", Sandy says, grinning up at him. "You forgot something." She looks up, and when Jensen does the same, he sees the mistletoe hanging over the door.

When he looks at Jared, the man gives him a slightly nervous smile. "Well", he says, and then bends forward and kisses Jensen gently on the lips, right there in front of his friend, his arms full of Jensen's children.

"Ew", Carla makes, next to his ear, and Jensen has to laugh. They break apart and look at each other.

"Thank God we didn't get around to take the Christmas decorations down yet", Sandy says smugly and then disappears inside the house.

Jared laughs. "God, I love Christmas", he says, and Jensen wholeheartedly agrees.


End file.
